The Irresistible Irishman - M.J. Fields Page 0,1
an orgasmic shudder. “I would have screwed him if I could, but of course, he’s off-limits to me. Raff would murder us both. But you? You are perfect.”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes, taking another healthy sip.
She shakes her head, a smile spreading across her face. “The accent. The height. His build. His roguish smile. I swear to God he’s got panty-melting potential. And after all you’ve been through, a good time is in order.”
“You’re exaggerating about him, I’m sure. And I am having a good time, here, with you.” I take another sip of my beer, the lie souring the taste. I’ve been having a hard time ever since I returned to Aspen, and we both know it. Okay, scratch that. I’ve been having a hard time over the last few years—period.
“Nope. I’m not letting you waste your youth another second. You need an orgasm with a man. I’m sure the vibrator is helpful, but nothing can come close to an actual dick. You could use a few nights of pure, no-strings fun.”
My jaw drops, her blunt language never ceasing to both shock and crack me up. “You’re insane.”
Her eyes flare past me as the stool beside mine scratches against the floor, and I glance over my shoulder, following her line of sight.
“Hello, Faith.” He nods toward her before focusing on me, licking his full, pouty lips.
My mouth? It opens and shuts as I forgo the beer resting on my tongue and instead drink him in.
My thirsty eyes agree. Faith was not exaggerating.
He’s tall. Like, really, really tall. I’m five foot five and have to crane my head up to peruse him thoroughly. Trim waist. Broad shoulders. He smiles, and I swallow. Hard, emerald eyes glitter over me.
“Mind if I sit?”
I thank God that I’m sitting as I give him a slow nod.
“Sarah, I take it?” His green eyes pierce deeply as he takes his chair, my own plain brown in contrast to his electric green. “Beckett.”
I want to reply, to feign some sense of normal, but I find myself incapable. Men like this are a rarity, and my mouth is refusing to do the simple bidding. Without warning, my mood flips from shock to anger as I cut my eyes back to Faith, who looks pretty damn proud of herself. I’ve been ambushed. I widen my eyes at her with a ‘how could you?!’
Yes, he’s hot. But I’m nowhere near ready to handle a man of this caliber. Not after what I’ve been through. And I don’t need a man who is brought in by my best friend out of pity for me, either. She should know that. And—
“Enjoy this gift of an introduction,” she whispers with a sly wink at Beckett, cutting off my spiraling thoughts. Unphased by my steady glare, she presses in. “Don’t stress this. Consider it an early Chanukah present.”
I twist my body around so she and I are face-to-face and grit out my reply. “It’s Saint Patrick’s Day. We’ve got half a year until Chanukah.”
Laughing, she hops off her stool, pridefully adjusting her green beaded necklaces. “It’s a good thing I didn’t say Yom Kippur. That’s when you starve for a day, right?” She leans in, her eyes sparkling in victory. “You’ve starved long enough, Sarah. It’s time to feast.”
I bite my cheek, looking upward and trying to gather myself to keep from strangling her. The moment she abandons me, I’m going to fake a bathroom break and call an Uber. This man—for the moment anyway—is completely out of my league. Within only a few words, and by his posture alone, it’s clear he’s got confidence in droves, my own suffering horribly due to my recent battle scars.
I don’t need to embarrass myself by staying here and trying to prove different.
Reading my panic, she crowds me with her departing hug, purposely keeping me planted so I don’t run off. “Live life,” she whispers with a vehement order. “Remember who the fuck you are. Liberate yourself. You deserve it. And he’s a decent guy.” She glances over my shoulder at Beckett, who’s attempting to flag down the bartender. “Really, he is.” She ‘spots’ someone in the crowd. “Oh, it’s Molly!” She projects her voice between us like a chaperoning parent. “Have fun, you two.” She promptly leaves us, disappearing into the sea of bodies despite my plea-filled eyes.
“Look.” I swivel back around to him, pressing my lips together briefly to consider my word choice before continuing. “This is really awkward. I’m sorry…she…I wasn’t expecting…”